What to do on a rainy day?
Go to the local library, don your sunglasses and prepare reunion materials.
Joining in on this group of committee members yesterday sure helped my rainy-day blues.
My classmate Donna and I didn't work as hard as the rest of the folks gathered around the table and then some.
We just listened during a brief meeting, collected information sheets, did some visiting and left.
The rest spent more time inside that room, counting, folding, writing and stuffing AND more than likely, visiting.
I saw only three people I hadn't known most of my life, from childhood on up. (After all, the age span goes from just above 70 to youthful/amazing 80s).
One spouse couldn't claim native status. She would have to go back to Oregon to do that. She married a native, though, and she's signed up to help the others put together an "all-class" reunion, including SHS classes from 1950-1966.
Donna and I, from the Class of 1965, have a unique status. Our 55th-year reunion was scheduled for the same time.
So, we're thinking that since it's not yet ten years since our 50th, we'll just have "half" a reunion with our activities the day before the big gathering at the Bonner County Fairgrounds.
We'll be stuffing envelopes ourselves with information from two different reunions, once we get our plans nailed down.
In the meantime, it was fun for both of us to reconnect with folks we probably see more often at funerals than any other event--'cept maybe Facebook.
When John Russell, Class of 1962, wanted to know who I was, I looked him straight in the face from across the table and announced, "I grew up directly across Sand Creek from you!"
John's expression showed immediate recognition.
"Brown," he said, among other things, including a brief story about how he remembered a conversation we'd had a while back about Earl Dustin.
Earl aka Dusty was the hermit who lived northeast of us and across the creek from the Russells.
"He worked for us," John said.
"He worked for us too," I announced. "My dad would have to go down into the field after dark and tell him it was time to go home."
Dusty picked up sticks on our farm after some dozing made way for planted hayfields.
John also told Donna about riding her cousin's pretty horse.
Duane and Marilyn Brown Ward have taken on the job of chairing the reunion committee, which is expecting hundreds of SHS alums.
So, once they opened the boxes of envelopes, information and sign-up sheets and gave a few brief instructions, folks went to work.
Marilyn is quite proud of the red "Bulldog" stamp which will go on the back side of each envelope.
It was quickly obvious that the folks in that library meeting room yesterday have earned their medals as worker bees over the years cuz nobody had to remind them to get busy.
And, from what I recall of those committee members in classes directly above our SHS Class of 1965, their "worker bee" status dates back to at least junior high.
I remember each of them as class leaders then, and decades later, they're still at it.
BTW: Jean Miller Martin's sunglasses may have had something to do with wishful thinking, considering the ugly, ugly January weather outside.
More importantly, though, Jean, whom I've known since I was a little girl, drove over to Sandpoint from her home in Priest River and realized she'd forgotten her regular prescription glasses.
So, I guess the sunglasses helped cuz she was pretty diligent about doing her share of the work.
Donna and I eventually left the room and had a brief visit outside, noting that we have a little planning to do before we can stuff our envelopes.
In short, the gathering was rich with genuine Sandpoint homegrown flavor: longevity, common history, deep local roots, no-nonsense approaches to attending to whatever is needed to reach a common goal and a strong sense of connections achieved through a mutual love for the community.
I can only imagine what the reunion will be like.
Happy Friday from slop, slop country.
Stay dry.
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